


Hell Week

by vulcanbabe



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanbabe/pseuds/vulcanbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing worse than getting sick in the midst of AP exams, but Octavia's always been great at bad timing. </p><p>OR: The one in which Octavia passes out in the middle of a test and is snuggled to death by her boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Week

**Author's Note:**

> After a year and a half of writing Octavia on Tumblr, I figured it was time to start getting back into fic. This is my first time writing Linctavia, but hopefully not my last! Many thanks & much love to Shelby for proofing this.

Octavia doesn't have time to be sick. Between dance and soccer and the six AP classes Bellamy didn't warn her against taking—and this is _all_ Bellamy's fault, she's decided—she doesn't have time for much of anything. Days that once would have been spent at the mall with Harper (and Jasper, and Miller, and however other many people they could pack into Monty's mom's minivan) are now spent with a pack of US Government flashcards. Days that were once wasted lounging in the sun have been sacrificed for aching muscles and a dull grey dance studio that screams _wasted suburban dreams__ and yet is the closest thing to home she's ever managed to find in an actual, physical building.  
  
Octavia doesn't have time to be sick, but if there's one absolute truth to be found in the universe, it's that the universe hates Octavia Blake. At least, that's what she's been insisting to anyone who will listen to her. It's the first week of May, so not only does she have to balance soccer practice—if they win their next few games, they'll make it to state—and dance rehearsal—summer showcase is in less than a month and as a senior she has a lot of weight to pull—but she's forced to tackle AP exams, too.

Bundled up in a pair of green sweatpants and a ratty hoodie that definitely belonged to either her brother or her boyfriend at some point, she sweats her way through AP Calc, cries during AP Euro, and passes out for two and a half minutes during the break in AP Physics. Jasper dumps half the contents of his water bottle on her so she won't get sent home from the exam, but any and all points that wins him are discarded when she spots Bellamy _inexplicably_ waiting for her outside the classroom as soon as the proctor says those magic words of dismissal.

"How the fuck did you text him without getting kicked out? And why the fuck were you talking to my brother instead of looking up the _answers_?"  
  
"No comment." Jasper makes sustained eye contact with the ground, fearing her wrath. Monty saves him from the inevitable with a sympathetic pat to Octavia's back.  
  
"Hope you feel better. Come on, Jasper, we gotta go or we're gonna be late."  
  
"Fuck _both_ of you. I hope you get _electrocuted_."  
  
The Blakes lock eyes before she can elaborate further; Octavia lifts her chin high, marching past him as if she _doesn't_ have a 101 degree fever and the room _isn't_ spinning right now. Not convinced, Bellamy catches her by the arm with a grunt. Soccer practice starts as soon as school is over and she's got to run to ballet as soon as she's through with _that_ , so she's set to argue, but _whoah, is the world supposed to be so swirly?_ Octavia sways once, twice, and then Bellamy's scooping her up before she can assess how much longer her legs are going to hold out.  
  
Greatly offended by his interference with her research, Octavia . . . passes out immediately. Much to elder brother's relief and a little to his concern, she doesn't return to consciousness until they're pulling into their driveway. Sleep and ice cream are the only things that can hit the reset button on her temper, so by the time she's awake, she's forgotten all irritation caused by his stubborn ignorance of her ability to walk, which she _may_ or _may not_ possess at the moment, given that when she hops out of his car, she ends up face first in the asphalt. Too delirious to process the pain, she informs Bellamy that she's bleeding and pushes herself from the ground as if nothing is wrong at all. She manages to get halfway there before she's tumbling face first towards the ground again; this time, Bellamy gets to her before the pavement can, scooping her into his arms.  
  
There's no protest from the little Blake as he carries her into the house; she's asleep again by the time he's carrying her up the stairs. Bellamy pushes open the door to her room with his foot, clicking his tongue in unsurprised dismay when he sees the pile of clothes heaped on her floor.  
  
"Hangers exist for a reason, O," he murmurs, stepping over the hazard. The comment falls on closed ears; she's still sound asleep in his arms. She stays that way as he tucks her into her bed, drawing worn purple comforter over her shoulders before settling onto the mattress beside her, pulling a book from her night stand. If she needs him, he wants to be close, and he wants to circumvent the panic that will occur should she wake up alone and feverish.  
  
Though Octavia has proven herself _more_ than capable of handling whatever lemons life has to bean at her head, at the end of the day, she's still just a kid. Too many nights spent shivering in Bellamy's arms in the emergency room while she was in elementary school have made her prone to panicking at the slightest cough or chill; what's just a _cold_ to someone else is always _pneumonia_ to her. Bellamy makes certain to keep her hand in his, ready to fight away whatever fears may creep into her subconscious.

* * *

 

When she wakes up, it's pitch black outside and Bellamy is nowhere to be found. This is okay, she decides, because Lincoln has replaced him, stretched across the bottom of her bed with a notebook in hand. She stretches out her leg, giving him a little nudge. A little startled but nonetheless happy, he looks up and gives her what might just be the prettiest grin she's ever seen in her entire life.

"You're really beautiful," Octavia mumbles, too exhausted to move her lips more than a little bit. The words are muffled, but he hears her loud and clear. His head tips back and he lets out that adoring laugh that he saves just for her, and, even though every single muscle in her body aches, she finds herself smiling, too.  
  
"B let you in?"  
  
She's surprised. It's not that Bellamy doesn't like Lincoln. Compared to _Atom_ , Lincoln is the love of Bellamy's life. On weekends, Lincoln is a permanent fixture in their home, and by this point, Bellamy has given up pretending like he's unaware that his baby sister's boyfriend spends most nights in her room. This is possibly and probably because Lincoln is the only person in the world who can convince Octavia to do laundry. Still, there's a protective streak in Bellamy that will never vanish completely; even when she's forty, she knows he'll still be terrified of something hurting her.

Lincoln will never harm her and Bellamy _knows_ it, but Bellamy also knows that Lincoln _could_  hurt her, and, though she's never asked her brother to, he's made it her duty to protect her from every bump and every bruise. As she gets older, he's learning to step back a little bit; she can never grow if he's there to absorb all the damage from every mistake she makes, but knowing that she needs to fall in order to fly doesn't make it any easier for him to see her in pain.

It's not that he has a problem with Lincoln, or that he has a problem with her and Lincoln. It's that he has a problem with not being able to fix all of her problems anymore. It's that there are some hurts he can't fix. It's that she's growing up and there's nothing he can do about it. She's always going to be his little sister. He's always going to be protective. But the older she gets, the more she's becoming his best friend instead of his responsibility.  
  
And none of that has anything to do with this, she realizes. Lincoln isn't here because Bellamy has decided that today is the day that he's going to let go. Lincoln is here because she feels like shit and because Bellamy knows that Lincoln will help her not feel like shit.  
  
"Yeah. He asked if I would come over. You passed out in the middle of physics?"  
  
"Don't want to talk about it. C'mere."

With a chuckle, Lincoln scoots up the mattress, resting his head on his arm as he lies opposite her. Octavia's brow furrows in protest and Lincoln laughs again before drawing her into his arms, tucking her small body close as she wraps her legs around one of his.  
  
"Where's ' _my_?" she questions, eyes already closing.  
  
Lincoln kisses her forehead before he responds, reaching for one of her hands. "At work. He said to call if we need anything."  
  
An eye shoots open and Octavia shoots him a contemplative look. "So we're alone?"  
  
"Yes — _no_. You can barely _walk,_  Octavia." His forehead crumples; a touch of his hand to her cheek reveals a too-high fever. "Right now you need to _sleep_."

"Party pooper," she grumbles, but her new-found determination to stay awake fades within seconds. Her stubbornness has finally met a match in this cold. "Don' leave."  
  
"I'll be right here when you wake up," Lincoln promises, and he's never meant anything more in his entire life.  
  
"Even if your arm falls asleep or you need to pee or aliens invade and the President asks you to help."  
  
"Even if," he agrees, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Go to sleep, my love."

"If anyone else said that I'd make fun of them," she states. It's a fact he already knows and she gets a hum of agreement from him. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too, Octavia Blake."  
  
Though her lungs may be plotting against her and though the threat of a week spent in the hospital is looming ever closer, when she falls asleep that night, Octavia feels safe — safe and  _happy._


End file.
